


Bedtime Stories

by Artemis_Day



Series: Zutara Week [3]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Cobalt Blue, F/M, Jubilant, Melancholy, Slow Dancing, Socks, Unrequited, Zutara Week, Zutara Week 2014, motorcycle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-14
Updated: 2014-07-19
Packaged: 2018-02-08 19:04:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1952622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artemis_Day/pseuds/Artemis_Day
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In with the children won't sleep, the sitter is exhausted, and Zuko and Katara's love story reaches across the universe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Melancholy

**Author's Note:**

> So this will be my fourth year participating in Zutara Week!
> 
> The first two years, I did a series of unconnected drabbles (though I would argue that the first five of my 2012 entries existed within a shared universe). Last year, I did a full story, The Red Hydrangea. 
> 
> This year, I've decided to mix the two together, so all of my entries this year will be a series of unconnected alternate universes told within a framing story, that being a babysitter telling bedtime stories to her two charges, who seem to have an odd interest in Zuko and Katara's many love stories.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy, and I'll see you tomorrow!

_“Tell us a bedtime story!”_

_It was a surprisingly bold command coming from a four year old girl in a blue wool nightgown, with a stuffed turtleduck clutched to her chest like a lifeline.  Her brother, a boy of six with a mop of black hair and a perpetual frown, shook his head.  Over the past few hours he had proven himself to have all the surly sarcasm of a man six times his age._

_“You’re such a baby,” he sneered at his sister.  “Why can’t you just go to sleep without having to hear some dumb story about magic princesses and stuff?”_

_The girl stuck her tongue out at him.  It was the usual way she answered him as far as the baby-sitter could tell.  She’d been watching them all day since their parents went out to run errands, and their grandparents enjoyed a much-needed vacation in the Earth Kingdom.  She had never taken care of kids before, but having spent the day with these two, she’d learned quite a bit about what it was like to have a sibling._

_Younger siblings drove you crazy and stole your ice cream when you weren’t looking._

_And older siblings tried to make a servant out of your and then pushed you into the mud when they found out you stole their ice cream._

_She’d never been happier to be an only child._

_Which wasn’t to say the sitter didn’t like the kids.  They were cute and cooperative when they were actually… well, cooperating with her.  Getting them to go to bed had been an exercise in patience at first (her old instructors would be so proud of her use of calming breathing techniques), but once the girl had taken her bath and dried her hair, and the boy had gotten to watch the sun set and spend some time in front of the fire, things had run pretty smoothly._

_It was only now, as the girl stood up on her bed with her hands on her hips, like the Fire Lady on her throne leading her army to war that the sitter could feel that headache coming back on._

_“Tell us a story,” the girl repeated._

_The sitter rubbed the back of her neck._

_“I uh… I don’t really know any stories,” she said._

_“Make one up,” the girl answered._

_The boy was sighed in annoyance, and the glare the sitter threw his way was only on principle.  She kind of agreed with him at this point._

_“Just ignore her,” said the boy from his bed.  “She’ll quiet down eventually.”_

_This time, he stuck out his tongue back at her, and they seemed to be having a competition of who could get theirs out the farthest.  Mature as he tried to be, the boy really was still a kid at heart.  The sitter quirked a smile._

_“I’ll help you get started,” the girl said, sitting back down cross legged on her bed.  “Once upon a time, there was a beautiful princess, and her name was Katara.”_

_The sitter furrowed her brow, and somewhere off to the side, the brother was groaning._

_“Katara?  Are you sure about that?”_

_The girl nodded resolutely.  “Yes I am, and Princess Katara loved a handsome prince named Zuko.”_

_“Of course she did,” the sitter said, and with a defeated slump of her shoulders, she eased herself into the chair next to the bed.  There was no escaping now.  “Okay, so there was a princess named Katara, and a prince named Zuko.”_

_The boy grumbled something unintelligible about what a ‘whiny baby’ his sister was and rolled over to face the wall._

_“And Princess Katara and Prince Zuko loved each other very much…”_

**

They met for the first time at a party.  It was a grand banquet the Water Tribe had thrown for their Chief, a brave and noble man called Hakoda.  He was much loved by his people, and even his enemies had nothing but respect for him.  He was just that kind of guy, the kind you want to slap on the back and buy a drink every time you saw him.  Even though his tribe had been at war with the Fire Nation for years, Hakoda had hope that one day, a truce could be reached and peace would reign.

His oldest son was Sokka, a brash and proud warrior who didn’t share his father’s pacifistic views.  His idea of ending the feud was to lock all the Fire Nation elites in cages and leave them there to gnaw on rat bones.  Though Hakoda tried to teach his heir in the ways of diplomacy, Sokka’s interests lay in hunting and training for war.  He had no use for petty words.

Katara was the younger child of Hakoda.  She was a waterbender, and a kind, loving young woman who shared her father’s desire for peace.  Together, they went on missions of peace all over the world, making friends in all four nations.  She was well-known for her beauty, and she had many suitors, but Princess Katara was waiting for something more than a rich man with a handsome face.  She was waiting for love.

Meanwhile, in the Fire Nation, Fire Lord Ozai’s firstborn and heir, Prince Zuko, felt much the same as Hakoda and Katara.  He was a little better off than them.  Someday, he would take over for his tyrannical father, and be free to usher in the period of peace he’d been dreaming of.  His father, however, felt his son too weak to inherit the throne.  Perhaps this was why Ozai favored Azula, Zuko’s younger sister, who was just as bloodthirsty as her father, and who loved to start battles with Prince Sokka for a laugh.  Their minor war was interspersed with one even greater than their petty squabbling, and it was the reason Zuko, along with Azula and her two friends, Mai and Tylee, had to sneak under cover into the party.  It had been Azula’s idea to go, obstinately for a night away from their stuffy palace, but really she just wanted to find a way to make a mess of the party and anger Prince Sokka, her most favorite target for mischief.

That may or may not have come about, but the real story begins with Zuko on the dance floor, watching through the crowd as a gaggle of waterbenders preformed their haunting dance by the light of the moon.  At the center was Princess Katara, and the moment Prince Zuko laid eyes on her, he knew that there would never be another woman in his heart. 

She was beautiful as she danced: one step left, two steps right, one step back.  All measured movements as she guided a stream of water through the air, making whips and waves and glowing orbs that sat over the people’s heads like a moon.  In her flowing blue gowns, with her hair long and loose, she was like a goddess to Zuko, who felt as though the whole room melted away, and it was just they two existing together in a world of their own.

What he would not find out until much later was that Princess Katara had seen him watching her from the crowd, and she was entranced by the handsome prince, whom until then she had only known by name.  When she saw his face, it was all she wanted to see for the rest of her life.  She went to find him when the dance was done, only to be distracted by her father and a nice young Air Nomad he’d been trying to set her up with.  After sharing a dance with the boy as a courtesy, Katara left again to find her prince, and it was on a field by a pool of water with the moon, large and full, at their backs that Prince Zuko and Princess Katara met for the first time.  By the end of the night, it would be the place of their first time laughing together, their first time holding hands, and when they had to part, their first time sharing a kiss.

They met frequently after that, always under the cover of night, when Sokka would be off on a midnight hunt, and Azula would be safely away from them in her chambers.  Though the lovers became closer and more in love by the day, both knew that their families would never accept them.  The battles between Sokka’s friends and Azula’s were getting worse by the day.  It was only a matter of time before they would be drawn into the chaos and forced apart.

One day, Azula caught Zuko returning from a meeting with Katara.  Though Zuko refused to tell her where he’d been, Azula was sneaky, and she’d do anything to discredit her brother and get her hands on the throne.  She sent a spy to follow Zuko the next time he snuck out.  He reported back all the details of Zuko and Katara’s meeting, how they professed their love to one another, first softly and then with rising passion.  Azula gleefully divulged it to her father, who was outraged to hear that his son had fallen for the daughter of his sworn enemy.

At length, Zuko was called to court, where Ozai laid down the charges against him.  He ordered his son to stop seeing the Water Tribe princess, or else risk being disowned and banished forever from the Fire Nation.

And now, Prince Zuko faced a terrible dilemma.  He knew he would fall into despair without the woman he loved by his side, but to give up the throne and his chance to end the violence between the nations once and for all was something he could hardly think to risk.  His father was in perfect health as well, so there was no hope of waiting for him to die off.  So long as Ozai had had that and Azula, he had no use for Zuko.

But then, tragedy struck.  An incensed Sokka, who had intercepted the spy and forced him to explain his purpose, planned to kill Zuko to keep his nemesis away from his sister.  No matter how much Katara begged him, Sokka would not be moved.  He had Katara restrained and then went out to hunt down his prey.  On the way, he was found by Azula, and the ensuing battle was the most terrible and deadly of all time.  By the end of it, both Sokka and Azula were dead by each other’s hands.  It was the first time the feud between nations had drawn blood, and with the loss of the Water Tribe Prince and the Fire Nation Princess, the people of both nations screamed out for blood.  Hakoda tried to ease the tensions, but his grief for his son had weakened him, and he was overthrown by radicals who established a new leader to take on the Fire Nation.

In the middle of the bloodshed, Zuko and Katara could only hope to meet in the quiet after each battle.  By then, so many lives on both sides had been lost.  The former king Hakoda was wasting away in anguish, looking more like a frail old man than the powerful leader he had been.  Though Katara worried for her father and for her people, her love for Zuko never faded.  What neither of them knew was that they were in more danger than they could have realized.

With the loss of what he considered the true heir to his throne, Ozai resigned himself to grooming his son to be a proper, ruthless Fire Lord like him.  The first step was doing away with the princess who softened his heart.  He knew that, in spite of his stern objections, Zuko continued to see the princess regularly.  He therefore conspired to lure her into the open, and then have one of his assassins take her out.  He sent Katara a letter in his son’s hand, asking her to meet him at a certain time and place to discuss running away together.  Katara received the letter and, thinking it was her beloved Zuko, went to the appointed location to let him know that, though she loved him with all that she had, she could not abandon her father or her people when they needed her most.  It was with a heavy heart that she refused what could be their final chance at happiness, but her mind was made up, and she knew that her prince would understand her decision.

**

_The sitter trailed off into silence, leaving the little girl to stare, with her searching blue eyes._

_“Well, what happens?” she asked, her already high-pitched voice becoming like a squeak.  “Do Prince Zuko and Princess Katara get to be happy together?  Do they stop all the fighting?  Does mean old Ozai go away?  Do-“_

_A hundred different questions with a hundred different scenarios, ranging from the Prince and Princess running away to the jungle to Ozai having a change of heart and letting them be together.  She was highly creative, this one.  She would’ve been better off telling the story than her sitter._

_Luckily- or really not so luckily- the brother was as happy as he’d even been to help out in his own, unhelpful way._

_“I’ll tell you what happens,” he said, sitting up in bed with his hands on his hips.  “What happens is that the princess gets killed by the assassin, then the Fire Lord has him make it look like Water Tribe rebels did it, which drives the prince to forget about all that peace stuff and completely destroy the Water Tribe as revenge.  Then, when the Water Tribe has been burnt to the ground, he finds out it was really his father who did it, kills him, and then throws himself off a cliff and drowns.  The End.”_

_The sitter didn’t know which was louder, the silence that followed, the sister’s bawling her eyes out that came next, or the internal raging she was doing at the smarmy faced brother, who looked far too pleased with himself for his own good._

_“You think just ‘cause I’m a kid, I wouldn’t know you stole that whole stupid story from some dumb opera?   She may be too young to know about that stuff, but I’m not.  That story sounded way too smart for you anyway.”_

_‘Insufferable brat,’ the sitter thought to herself.  True, she may not have been all that well read (she may have read a book once about ten years ago), but she thought she did okay with the story.  She’d changed all the names and locations, and the part about the dancing hadn’t even been in the opera.  She’d made that bit up all by herself.  So there!_

_The sitter turned away from the boy for now to deal with his sister.  The little girl was clutching at her shirt, soaking it in the fat tears rolling down her cheeks._

_“Don’t listen to him, honey,” said the sitter as she rubbed the girl’s head soothingly.  “He’s just a big dummy.  What really happens is that the… uh…” she racked her brains for an idea.  “Uh… the… whole thing turns out to be a bad dream.”_

_“What?” the boy shouted._

_“And it turns out there wasn’t really a war and no one is dead, and Prince Zuko and Princess Katara got married and lived happily ever after, and_ that’s _how it ends.”_

_She directed the last bit the brother’s way, as he pretended to gag until it looked like he really would._

_The tiny girl sniffled.  “R-really?”_

_“Yes, really,” the sitter said, before the brother could step in again, not that it looked like he was going to._

_The girl instantly brightened up, all sadness forgotten at the promise of a happy ending to her fairy tale.  In retrospect, the sitter had to kick herself for choosing an opera of all things to lift a story from.  Hadn’t she grown up on that old fairy tale radio show?  Filled with sugary sweet stories of beautiful princesses and handsome princes and happy endings for all who deserved them?_

_It just goes to show, she really wasn’t cut out for this baby-sitting thing._

_She tucked the little girl into bed, the turtle duck’s head poking out from above her arm as she snuggled into the mattress and closed her eyes._

_“Tell us another story tomorrow, kay?”_

_The sitter smiled and brushed the hair from her face._

_“We’ll see.”_


	2. Jubilant

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's Day Two!

_“So what’s tonight’s story about?”_

_The little girl sat up in bed, her covers thrown off the mattress.  The sitter had just stepped out of the bathroom, the boy running past her legs having cleaned himself up for bed.  After a long and eventful day spent watching the pro- benders train and having a large and filling family dinner, she had thought that the kids would be too worn out to ask for a repeat performance from last night.  Playing storyteller once had been bad enough without the ever-pressing thought of having to do it again gnawing at her._

_She should just say no or make an excuse.  Say she was too tired or she had something important to do tomorrow that required a good night’s sleep, and maybe even promise to tell them a story another night, far in the future when they’d likely have found something else to hold their attention._

_It was those eyes that stopped her.  Those big, quivering eyes and that sweet baby face.  It was so unfair.  Her brother may have been a pest, but this girl had a face that could get away with murder._

_“I don’t want to hear another dumb princess story,” said the boy as he stood in wait at the foot of his bed._

_After the requisite round of tongue sticking was complete, the sitter dropped the boy into his bed and slid the covers over him.  Aside from the occasional quip, he’d been a lot better behaved today.  This probably had a lot to do with his sitter kicking his butt today during his bending practice, but it wasn’t like she was complaining.  Anything that humbled the kid was good enough for her (especially if she was the one doing it)._

_“Then why do you come up with something?” she asked._

_The boy perked up, but only just.  A big, tough man like him didn’t get excited over silly stories or anything that didn’t involve doing battle._

_“Tell a wolfman story,” he said shortly._

_“No way!” cried the sister.  “Wolfman is scary.”_

_“He is not, you big baby,” said the brother._

_The sitter went to the girl and took her hand, with a warm smile to calm her._

_“I promise I won’t make this story scary, okay?  I’ll make it so you both enjoy it, and it’ll definitely have a happy ending.”_

_The little girl didn’t look so sure, and the welling of her eyes continued for a long time after the fact, but still she nodded, and rested her head on the pillow to listen._

_“Just don’t pull anything like you did last night,” said the boy with a hard look in his eye.  “I’ve listened to every episode of the Adventures of Wolfman, and I’ll know if you’re just telling one of those.”_

_The sitter thought she felt a vein pop up in her forehead, but still she forced a grin and a thumb up at the boy._

_“Okay,” she said.  “I promise I will not take any inspiration at all from the Adventures of Wolfman radio show.  Happy?”_

_The boy mumbled a response that the sitter didn’t care to decipher._

_“Okay, so this is the story of a wolfman-“_

_“Named Zuko!”_

_The brother rolled his eyes, and the sitter stifled a laugh._

_“Right, a wolfman named Zuko…”_

**

He had wandered farther away from his homeland tonight than he should have, but Zuko hadn’t done it for the sake of it.  He had a mission, a purpose for being here on this night, so close to the full moon that he could feel the beast within him scratching at the surface, snarling and biting and aching for freedom.  Zuko had long since tamed his wild side, like all of them did after a while, but there were times just like now when he could feel it overwhelming him; this carnal need that wasn’t just for a sumptuous dinner.

She was sitting in the clearing near a tree, shadowed and solitary, and so very still.  She could pass for part of the landscape if one didn’t look carefully.  She was watching the town down below, as she had on many other nights.  Whoever she was waiting for had to be important, or else she just enjoyed watching the humans.  He could understand that.

This was not the first time he had watched her.  He always told himself that tonight would be the night he got up the courage to talk to her, but he was held back by something he couldn’t explain, except that it might have been part of why his sister though him unfit to lead the pack.  He knew from the girl’s scent that she wasn’t like him.  In many ways, she was the farthest possible thing from him, but as his mother used to say, you can’t always chose who you give your heart to.

He crept out of the tree that had been his hiding place, with well-timed steps to keep his feet light and his body invisible.  She never saw him coming, not until he was well below ten feet away, and then her ears pricked up and she whirled around.

“Who’s there?” she called out.

Zuko took a breath and stepped forth, his hands raised in surrender.

“I mean you no harm,” he said to her.

She stared.  “A werewolf?  So far out here?”

Zuko smiled, laughing at himself and his own foolishness. 

Of course Katara would know right away what he was; he should have known that would happen.  It was a shame, then.  He would’ve liked having the element of surprise.  He could have met her without the weight of a bias over them, and he could have gradually eased her into his being part wolf.  She might have been scared, and she might have run, or she might have lashed out.  She might still do that now, and he’ll just have to wait and find out which it’ll be, hoping and praying that she was as accepting and as even tempered as his senses told him she was.

He explained to her that he had been wandering on this night as the moon filled out, getting away for a while and exploring to satisfy his wanderlust, which wasn’t entirely untrue.  It had been what he was doing straying away from home, before he had first laid eyes on her all those days ago and fell under a spell she didn’t know she cast.

He kept secret how entranced he was by her, but now he could see up close just how beautiful she was.  The night truly did wonders for her; she was as bright as the moon and as lovely as all the stars in the sky, if he dared be so poetic (or cheesy, as some would say).

He could never say what it was in that first real conversation of theirs that endeared him to her (Agni knows he’d been too nervous to string more than two sentences together), but they spent hours together, talking and sharing stories about their lives and their families.  They shared a meal when they were hungry and played hide and seek when they were bored.  They walked for miles, deeper and deeper into the forest, into a place Zuko recognized.  His acute sense of hearing detected the howls of his brothers and sisters, as their shadows danced across his vision, reflected on a tree by the firelight.  Any closer and they themselves would be heard, and he couldn’t have that when Katara was with him.

“It’s okay,” she told him when he expressed his concerns, and he could tell by her eyes and by her scent that she really meant it.  “I’m not afraid of your kind.  I’ve always wanted to see a werewolf pack for myself.”

So they went on, and Zuko tried not to fear for Katara, to remember that she was well capable of dealing with wolves if things got out of hand, and over time he started to believe it.

Eventually the sounds grew unbearable to his ears.  One look at Katara told him she was no better.  The wolves were really letting loose this time.  Parties on the night before the full moon were not uncommon.  They happened whenever a new wolf was initiated, and they happened in celebration of a pack member’s completion of another life cycle, and they happened just so that everyone could dance and be joyful.  No one ever needed a reason for that.

At least twenty of them were dancing when Zuko and Katara entered the clearing.  Those on the sidelines clapped and cheered them on.  One newly mated couple was making a great show of their spins and high kicks.  Their faces were sweaty and red, but full of laughter.  They waved when Zuko appeared, heedless of the woman next to him and her obvious lack of lycan features.

In fact, as the night wore on, no one said a word about Katara.  She seemed to fit right in, joining in the dance like she had never not been a part of it.  Though dancing had never been Zuko’s cup of tea, Katara dragged him into it.  She was not one to take no for an answer.  After a while with her in his arms, moving her around the circle to the spirited beat of a drum, Zuko couldn’t say he minded much.

The party went on for hours, and the dances came intermediately.  Her body against his was ice cold, but alive with passion.  He held her flush to him, wanting to never let this moment die, and to have her like this for the rest of his days.  Just the two of them, together.

Of course, all good times must come to an end, and this end came with the arrival of a young woman Zuko had hoped he wouldn’t see tonight.  She could be called a beauty in her own right, but Zuko had never seen her as more than a nuisance, from the time she first emerged into the world and his mother held her infant form in her arms for all to see.   Since then, they hadn’t quite grown as close as their dearly departed mother had wanted.  If anything, what they felt for each other was pure scorn and mutual distrust.  Zuko didn’t think he and his sister would ever share something that could be defined as love.  It was especially true when she was like this, looking down on the rest of the pack like she was twenty feet tall, or like she was the leader of the pack instead of him.  His sister commanded attention, and in that regard, she would’ve made a good leader, he’d give her that.  It was just that in every other way, she was woefully unfit for the job.  She was cold, she was inflexible, she was easily pushed to violence, and most of all she was merciless.  That was why Zuko would never let her challenge him for leadership. He’d dissolve the pack himself first.

He couldn’t just throw her out either.  Her many flaws aside, she was his sister, and his mother never would’ve approved.  So he dealt with her in times like this, when she lorded over the place and treated him like the dirt under her shoe.  Were she to do the same to Katara, however, Zuko couldn’t say he’d be quite so lenient.

“What is _this_ doing here?” Azula sneered her way.  “Are you bringing home strays now, brother?  I thought you had a little more class than to associate with her kind.”

Zuko ignored her words and led his friend in one final dance.  Though Azula still jeered, they shut her words out and had eyes and ears only for each other.  At the final beat of the drum, the night neared its end, and Zuko bade his jubilant pack farewell, and left to see Katara off.

They kept to the path from whence they came, but Katara was once more growing hungry and wanted to look for something to eat.  Zuko distracted her with stories of his awakening as a werewolf, how he used to trip over his four legs and wake up naked in public places thanks to pranks by his packmates.  She laughed uproariously at all his stories, and where they used to mortify him, Zuko could almost appreciate the humor in them now, with the gift of hindsight and the presence of Katara at his side. 

They made it back to the edge of town, and Katara stopped. 

“What is it?” Zuko asked.

Katara raised a hand, and then her head.  She sniffed the air, her eyes going wide with an unspeakable need.  She walked into the town like a woman possessed, Zuko close behind.  A young man was what had caught her attention.  He had an attractive face that had likely enticed many a woman.  Zuko had a mighty need to go and beat that face into the back of the man’s skull, but that would just deny Katara what she needed.

She walked with purpose down the hill and into the street, trailing behind the man at a distance of several feet until they were in a deserted part of the street where the streetlights had dimmed to cinders.  Then she called out to him.  He turned and smiled at the pretty woman approaching him.  That smile faded when Katara lifted a finger and ran it slowly across his eyes, lulling him into a trance.  Her fangs glistened in the moonlight as she sunk them deep into the man’s neck, drank her fill, and then left him to awaken, weakened and disoriented, but no worse for the ware.  It was a long-standing rule among the vampires to be careful with their food source.  Barring animals, only the most immoral of the undead actually killed a human.

Zuko offered her a napkin to wipe the excess blood off her mouth, and Katara graciously accepted.  It might have made Zuko sound a little too goofy in love, but she looked pretty adorable when she struggled to remove a stubborn stain from the top of her lip.  Zuko had to turn away to hide his smile.

“Walk me home?” Katara asked when she was done, holding out a hand that Zuko was only too happy to accept.

And the creatures of the night faded into the darkness that called out to them in a clear, strong voice.

**

_The boy’s lips were pursed as his sitter declared the story over.  She didn’t really care if he liked it or not, so long as he and his sister would go to sleep and left her off the hook for the night.  Seriously, she’d been so busy practicing and helping train the kids all day long, it was a wonder she hadn’t konked out halfway through the story._

_“That was a good one,” said the girl with a wide grin.  “You were right, I wasn’t scared one bit!”_

_Bless that child and her innocent validation of everything her sitter did._

_“See?  What’d I tell you?”_

_The little girl shrieked as the sitter began tickling under her arms. She flailed about and almost lost her beloved turtleduck before the sitter freed her.  The boy had not moved in the meantime, except to pull the covers up to his chin toss and turn a little._

_“I guess it was okay,” he said with so much unaffectedness in his tone that even a deaf person could hear how fake it was.  “At least you kept your promise about not copying a Wolfman episode.”_

_That was the best she was bound to get, so the sitter took the compliment and blew out the candles to darken the room and let them sleep, all the while thinking how lucky she was that the boy hadn’t heard about that official Adventures of Wolfman theatre troupe yet._


	3. Motorcycle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day Three is here! Once again probably my favorite day.

_“You can come up with the story tonight,” said the little girl.  She spoke over the raucous laughter and upbeat fiddle music playing right outside their window.  Not for the first time in the past hour and a half, the sitter wished it would stop already.  Hadn’t everybody partied enough?_

_She didn’t even know why there had been a party today chalking it up to the fact that everyone was in town at the same time and had nothing better to do.  She’d gotten some good food out of it anyway, and she’d made some new friends and gotten to experience a little more Fire Nation culture.  Beyond that, she really just wanted to get these kids in bed and go to sleep, and the way things were looking, they could ask for twelve stories in a row, and the party would still be going strong when she finished._

_Right now, she’d prefer not to tell even one, but there were the eyes again.  Even her brother looked a little more interested now after yesterday.  Resigned to her fate, the sitter flopped into a wooden chair and sighed._

_“I choose, huh?  No princesses or vampires tonight?”_

_The boy shrugged.  “Put them if you want, I don’t really care.  Just make it a longer story this time.  You last two were way too short.”_

_She blew forth a puff of air.  “Right… okay, so this is a story about…”_

_She thought hard for a premise, but for all that she tried to be creative, everything that came to her was either boring or made no sense whatsoever (‘chickens with backwards beaks?  Is that really the best I can do?  Man, I really am not creative at all, am I?’)._

_“A story about…”_

_The sound of whirring broke through her haze and brought her to attention.  She glanced out the covered window, just able to make out a few men with drinks in their hand and a single headlight shining through the fog.  The sitter smiled, a lightbulb going off in her head._

_“This is a story about motorcycles,” she said.  “This is a story about a man who rides a motorcycle and a… a woman who runs a small shop.”_

_The children looked expectantly at her._

_“…and their names were Zuko and Katara, of course.”_

**

It was the end of another long day at the bookshop.  The kind of day that makes you feel like a stack of encyclopedias has been dropped on your head and you have to work through the pain to finish up before closing.  Otherwise, you lose money.  Being the sole proprietor of a corner bookshop meant an endless string of contractors trying to buy up the property, since according to them, the chain bookstores are just going to run her out of business anyway.

But Katara carried on through the strife, backed by a small, but loyal base of customers and an all-encompassing love of books that would have her chaining herself to the door in protest before she let any big time lawyers in suits take her store from her.

The very generous anonymous donations credited to her bank account once a month were also a big help. 

The guttural roar of an engine peeling down the street reminded Katara that she had yet to thank her not-so-mysterious benefactor for his most recent check.  She had an additional thought to again him again to stop sending them, because there was no point in investing in what any sane individual would call a worthless business endeavor.  Of course, she’d learned long ago how useless it would be.

“I can afford it,” he’d say, “and I’m not in it for myself anyway.”

Katara smiled wryly.  That was Zuko for you, good old people pleasing motorbike riding bad boy Zuko, who parked outside of her door with headlights blaring, and stepped off the curb like a black shadow outlined in white.  Katara traced his form with her eyes and let out a sigh.

He was driving without a helmet _again_.

“How many times do I have to tell you,” she called out when he entered, “more bike-related injuries happen when you aren’t wearing protection than when you are.”

“If I’m going at seventy miles an hour, and I get thrown off, I don’t think a helmet is going to stop me from breaking every bone in my body,” he said.

 “Maybe not, but it’ll keep your face looking nice for the funeral.”

She slid off the ladder onto the carpeted floor behind her desk.  Zuko was messing around with the chocolate bar display, and if Katara didn’t know better, she’d think he was about to slip something into his pocket.  She hoped if he did, he’d be nice enough to save it for later when she needed a snack.

His other hand fidgeted with his keys.  He did that a lot of the time, and as easy to read as he usually was, that was something Katara could never figure out.  He never had a set mood for it.  He could be happy and joking or quiet and melancholy.  Either way, that tiny slab of metal would be caught between his fingers, and he’d been running the pads along the smooth end in turn with the bumpy end. 

He did it now while pointing his sharp gaze at the cookbook section, and unless he had some deep-seated hatred for cupcake recipes, there was something serious going on.  Reputation for brooding aside, Zuko was never like this.

“Hey.” Katara pressed a hand into Zuko’s leather clad shoulder.  “You okay?”

He closed his eyes.

“I’m worried about you.”

Katara blinked.  “Me?  Why would you be worried about me?”

He had been coming close to meeting her eye.  He had turned his head straight and was trailing up from the desk to her face.  Her question made him stop, and pushed him away, but Katara wasn’t about to let that happen.

“Come on, don’t be that way,” she said.  “I know you like being the mysterious guy and all, but you can’t just tell me something like that and expect me not to ask questions.”

His fingers began to flex, and Katara thought he might break those keys if he wasn’t careful.  As it was, he looked like something deep inside of him was breaking, and Katara hated to admit that she wouldn’t know what to do if that were true.  If only Zuko was a little more open with her, or anyone for that matter.

“Look, can I just…” he stopped and swallowed.  “I was hoping I could take you home tonight.  I do have a helmet in the back and you can use it.”

He had shoved both his hands into his pockets, which Katara could tell from the bulging he had bunched into fists.  It was hard for her not to break the air of tension around them and laugh, but Zuko was just so cute when he got like this.  His face turned even redder than the angry skin around that scar of his.

“My place is only a block away,” she reminded him.  “I can walk myself fine.”

“Yeah, but… I’d feel better if you’d let me.”

He wasn’t going to elaborate.  Not without being pressed.  That was clear to Katara from all these months of knowing him, from the first time he came in to buy an obscure book on mechanics that none of those chain stores carried, to the day he worked up the nerve to ask her out for a cup of coffee, to the morning she received the first ‘anonymous’ check after those contractors showed up again to prod her about selling.  He opened up only when he wanted to, and most of the time, he did not want to.

“Is there something you’re afraid of?” Katara asked.  It seemed like a good place to start, and the way Zuko bit his lip and flinched, she had every reason to believe she was on the right track.

“I don’t know,” he answered.  “I just… I was talking to my sister the other day, and she mentioned you.  I didn’t like it, so…”

He wouldn’t go any further than that, but he didn’t really need to.  Katara only knew Zuko’s younger sister by name, and by his description of her as a cold, sadistic pathological liar who didn’t have a single nice bone in her body.  Not exactly the type of person you wanted to be around on a cold night in an empty street, but even if she really was as bad as Zuko claimed, Katara wasn’t afraid.  She had years of martial arts training, plus a trusty taser that her overprotective brother had bought for her when she moved out on her own.  She could take one crazy biker girl if she had to.

And so she’d done what she could to calm Zuko’s fears, eventually accepting a compromise where he got to walk her home.  Much as Zuko loved that bike of his, Katara had never been all that keen on them.  Too fast and too dangerous for her liking.  She much preferred her own two feet, or maybe a car.

“Call me if anything funny happens,” Zuko said at the door.  He refused to leave until Katara swore it to him.

She went up to her apartment smiling all the way.  It was a good thing Zuko had left when he did, because her blush was beating his by a longshot.  One of these days, she swore she’d kiss that beautiful face of his.  She just had to work up the nerve first.

Her apartment was small, yet neat, colored in shades of blue and white from the navy blue throw rug to the sky blue comforter.  Katara threw off her jacket and her shirt, stripping all the way down for a quick shower before bed.  The leftover noodles that would have been her dinner went in the garbage.  She just wasn’t in the mood to eat tonight. 

In her favorite nightclothes, Katara walked into her bedroom, where a thick burlap sack was flung over her head, and a rough hand pinched a nerve in her neck before she could even think to try and fight back.

She came to in a groggy state, the sack still tight over her head, constricting her breathing.  She was in the air, bumping up and down in time with the footsteps of whoever was carrying her.  Katara forced herself to stay calm as soft voices unleashed vicious snickers, and at least one person gushed about how the ‘she’ was going to ‘cut that girl’s pretty face wide open.’

Katara swallowed, flexing wrists that had been bound by heavy rope.  A quick check of her feet told her they were in a similar state, the rope tight around her ankles, which were numb from the lack of blood flow.

“Drop her,” a harsh, female voice commanded.

Katara gasped as she was unceremoniously dropped to the floor.  She squirmed around like a headless chicken, amid the laughter of the gathered men.  A hush fell over them at once, and Katara could only guess that their leader had silenced them.

The sack was removed, and Katara’s eyes burned in the dim lighting.  She appeared to be in a warehouse of some kind.  Seagulls were crying overhead and a bell was ringing in the wind.  Ten large, hairy men in enough leather to kill a thousand cows crowded around her.  Their eyes and their leering grins spoke of obvious and despicable intent.  If Katara could just get her hands and feet free, she’d deal with them all in quick order.  As it was, the best she could do was a defiant glare.

Their leader was a young woman, as young as Katara to her great surprise.

But no, it wasn’t really that surprising, because Katara didn’t need a name or anything else to know who this was. 

“Azula,” she whispered.

The woman smirked.

“It seems my brother has told you about me.”  She stepped off the seat of her bike to walk around her captive.  “Too bad he wasn’t smart enough to keep you away from that apartment of yours.  He should’ve known I’d find out where you live.  I have eyes and ears all over this city.”

Katara scowled, her teeth bared as if to challenge her.  Azula laughed.

“Oh don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you.  Not yet anyway.  I’m just waiting for my brother to show up.  Then we’ll see.”

“Why are you doing this?” Katara snapped at her, lunging at Azula’s feet, though there was nothing she could’ve done beyond spitting on the other woman’s boots.  “Why did you kidnap me?  How is that going to help you with… whatever it is you want?”

Azula sank to one knee, and pulled Katara’s chin up with one long finger.

“I guess you haven’t figured out yet how much my brother cares about you.  I know he’s the only reason that eyesore of a shop is still running.  It would’ve sunk months ago if it wasn’t for him, so don’t tell me you think he’d invest in just _anyone’s_ failure of a business.”

Katara snapped her teeth, almost getting the tip of Azula’s finger before she pulled away.  Azula walked back to her bike, decked out in streaks of blue flame and painted black and gold. 

“You’re just going to stay here with my friends until Zuko shows up,” she said, her eyes gleaming.  “Don’t worry, I promise they won’t hurt you.”

 _‘Not yet,’_ was the obvious message behind the smile she wore.

She turned away, letting her gang close the circle around Katara.  She fought against her bonds harder than ever, but that just seemed to make them worse.  Though she could just about reach her back pocket, her taser was back at home, and they may have even taken it with them, just to be safe.  Gravely voices hissed in her ear, and sweaty palms reached down to grasp her arms, and in this pitiful, vulnerable position, Katara was helpless, of all but to look to the sky and wish she was dreaming.

A blinding light filled the room, and an engine roared over the men’s shocked cries.  A motorbike flew through the air over a shorter man’s head and landed hard on the ground by Katara.  The driver needed a good five feet to break, but then he whipped right around in the direction of the men and stepped on the gas.  Like flies, they scattered, some of them tripping over their own feet to avoid getting run over. 

The rider stopped in front of Katara, who processed golden eyes and a helmetless head of black hair first, and then the knife blade running through her bonds.

“I knew she was up to something,” Zuko muttered to himself.  “I shouldn’t have left you.”

He freed Katara’s hands and went to work on her ankles.

“Worry about that later,” she said.  “Let’s just get out of here.”

When she could walk again, she hopped onto the bike behind Zuko.  She cast aside her distaste with motorbikes for now.  Getting out of this crazy place alive was the most important thing, and she’d take a potential death trap over Azula any day of the week.

An engine that wasn’t Zuko’s revved up, and when Katara turned, Azula was on her bike, a demon’s grin on her face as she lifted off the brake and careened in their direction.

And of course, she didn’t wear a helmet either.

Katara clung to Zuko.  “Go. Go!”

He went.  They exploded out of the warehouse, bits of wood flying through the air and catching onto Katara’s hair.  Azula was hot on their trail, coming closer and closer into Zuko’s rearview mirror.  Zuko sped up, so fast that Katara thought her arms might come out of their sockets.  To counter it, she held Zuko tighter, and even though she was on a motorcycle going a hundred miles an hour with a psychopath chasing after them, and any second now, any one of those things could kill violently kill her, a small part of her couldn’t help noticing how hard Zuko’s body was to the touch.

 _‘Focus Katara,’_ said the sensible side of her brain.  _‘You can lust after Zuko later.  Right now, focus!’_

Zuko made a sharp turn left, onto a densely populated street.  Katara buried her scream in his jacket as he swerved this way and that, missing people by a hair’s breath, while behind him, Azula was much less subtle, and only avoided running into anyone herself because Zuko had scared them off.  They went up a wooden ramp, over a small car and back onto the street.  Sparks flew off of Zuko’s tires.

They came upon another empty side of the docks and bumped along on poorly placed plywood.  Azula was closer than ever before, close enough to grab a fistful of Katara’s hair if she wanted to.  She seemed too busy trying to run them down to consider it, and any second now, she would be level with them.

“She’s coming!” Katara yelled, and if Zuko answered, she couldn’t hear it over the engines.

The next move he made, Katara would be beating him over the head for later.  The end of the dock was rapidly approaching, and if he didn’t turn now, he was going to run them into that yacht up ahead.  Zuko changed course, just a tad to the right so they could fly up the ramp onto the boat’s deck.  Azula followed, caring even less for collateral damage than Zuko did.  Katara was pretty sure Azula deliberately ran down that empty drink cart that Zuko dodged, just to show what she was going to do once she caught them.

“Zuko…” Katara lowered her face, so that just the sky and the top of Zuko’s head were visible.  Then she closed her eyes.

“Hold on tight,” he said.

Katara didn’t think she could hold on tighter than she was, but she managed it somehow without breaking Zuko’s back, as he skidded to a halt right in front of the rail at the stern.  They stopped an inch away from going over, but Azula wasn’t so lucky.

She had maybe a second to process what was happening before she went over, her scream cut off when she hit the water.  She surfaced with an even louder shriek, cursing the names of Zuko and Katara as Zuko restarted the engines and got them both out of there.

He didn’t take Katara straight home.  He drove them over the beach into the mountains, stopping at the edge of a cliff where the rising sun was like a pale jewel in the sky, and even a night person like Katara could appreciate the beauty of it.  She stepped off the bike on wobbly legs and shielded her eyes with her hand.

“Wow…”

Zuko’s taller form cast a shadow over her.

“I’m glad you like it,” he said.  “I guess this is part of my apology for getting you into all that.  I’ll put the rest of it in your account first thing tomorrow.”

Katara glanced at him over her shoulder.  “It wasn’t your fault, you know.”

Zuko shook his head.  “I should’ve protected you.  I knew Azula knew about you and that she’d try to do something to you to get to me.”

“And did you forget that I have a black belt?” Katara asked teasingly.  “They got the jump on me, and they probably would’ve done the same to you.  I’m just glad that you showed up when you did.  I’d probably be toast if you hadn’t rescued me.”

She faced him, hands clasped behind her back as she stood up on tip-toes.

“So, is it okay if I thank you for saving me?”

She brought her face closer to Zuko, her lips slightly parted and her eyes lidded.  Zuko was trembling, and his hands were on the keys, but he wasn’t going to run from her, and she wasn’t going to stop.  With warm breath on their faces, their lips joined together, and-

**

_“Oh no, no way!”_

_The boy jumped out of bed, spreading his hands out in front of him multiple times to make his point._

_“What’s your problem now?” asked the sitter, who didn’t quite like being interrupted when she was on a roll.  That film reel she’d seen the other day was still fresh in her mind, and they were just a couple of seconds away from the ending scene too.  Why couldn’t he just wait before complaining?_

_“There is no way I’m listening to a kissing story.  No way, no how.”_

_“Yeah!” shouted the little girl, standing with her brother for perhaps the first time since she’d been alive.  “Kissing is gross!”_

_“Super gross,” said the boy._

_“Mega gross!” agreed the girl._

_“Ultra gross.”_

_“Grosser than gross!”_

_“The grossest gross that ever grossed!”_

_“Alright, alright!”  The sitter was just about to tear her own hair out.  “I won’t tell anymore kissing stories, okay?”_

_The kids thought it over._

_“Well …okay!”_

_“Okay!”_

_The boy jumped back into bed and pulled the covers over his head, feigning snores as his sister tried her best to copy him.  They both played at sleeping for some time, until their phony snores tapered off and their breaths evened out.  By then, the music outside had slowed to a stop, and the guests were saying their goodbyes.  The sitter walked out of the room as the firelight faded, and she shook her head at the sleeping children._

_“Kids…”_


	4. Cobalt Blue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I've previously stated, the running theme for my Zutara Week entries this year is alternate universes. Today's is a space AU, because Cobalt Blue sounded like it would be a good name for a spaceship to me.
> 
> Now, I know that when most people think of stories about space, they think of Star Wars or Star Trek. Thing is, I haven't seen either of those things, so instead I'm going with Georges Melies (with a dash of Sailor Moon for good measure).
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

_“I love the sky!”_

_The little girl was lying on a blanket in the courtyard, the stars at her feet as the fire illuminated her tiny brown head.  From inside the tent, the sitter prepared their sleeping bags, one small one on either side of her large one.  It was the kids’ first time camping out, and she’d been trying hard to make it special for them.  So far, they’d sung campfire songs, they’d made treats over the fire, and though they had to skip the scary stories so that the girl didn’t get scarred for life, they had gotten in a game of who could catch the most fireflies (the sitter had the record with twenty two)._

_Now came the time for their brand new, three days strong tradition.  The sitter could sense a story on the horizon, and she hoped she could remember a good radio show or film reel to help her._

_“The stars do look nice tonight,” she said in agreement._

_The brother was leaning against a tree with a book in hand, one that he’d barely made a dent in, even after an hour._

_“Let me guess,” he said, pushing the book aside. “Now you want to hear a story about the sky, don’t you?”_

_“Don’t_ you _?” the girl asked back.  “Just imagine how fun it would be to be in the sky with the sun and the moon and the stars!  That would be the best thing ever!”_

_Inspired, the girl tugged at her sitter’s sleeve, those big blue eyes working their magic._

_“Please tell us a story about space.  Pleeeeeeeeease!”_

_“Oh, just tell it so she’ll stop,” the boy cried, plugging his ears with his fingers._

‘What did I ever do without you guys?’ _the sitter wondered, and she only somewhat meant it ironically._

_She lied down in the cool grass, her hair falling loose and wavy around her face.  Her eyes fell to the moon that made her people strong.  It was full tonight; the light surged through her veins like an electric shock._

_“Okay, guys, once upon a time, Zuko and Katara went to the moon…”_

**

The Expo was in full swing.  Spectators from all walks of life filled the streets from top to bottom.  Young and old, big and small, bender and non-bender.  Everyone was coming out to have a look at the rocket.  It was long, round, and freshly painted in blue, sitting upon a crane until the time came to launch.  COBALT BLUE was stamped across the sides, which were littered with handprints from those tall enough and bold enough to reach out and touch.  If Zuko had seen it, he would be furious, but Katara didn’t mind.  Those people would have the great honor of having part of themselves enter into space, even if it was just the impression of a hand.

 Katara pulled herself over the railing to look out, the toes of her boot barely touching the floor.   She waved to a child holding a flower out to her.  He was far out of reach, but Katara blew him a kiss.  Another boy was sitting on his brother’s shoulders and pointing at the sky, up where the full moon sat uncovered by clouds, and a sprinkle of stars decorated the space around it.  They’d be seeing those stars up close very soon.  Katara’s shook with anticipation.  This was what she and Zuko had been working towards their whole lives.

The clock tower bonged over the noise of the crowd.  It was six on the dot and the show was about to start.

“Can’t you be more professional?” Zuko hissed at her when she left her post at the bottom of the podium and went to stand at his side.

“I am being professional,” Katara said, grinning.  “I’m just also being friendly.  You should try it some time.”

Zuko scowled, but their bickering ended there for now, as the mayor stepped up to make his speech and introduce the space travelers.  Known for long-winded dialogues with the people, tonight he kept things short and sweet.  He was no less eager for the ship to launch than anyone else.  Five minutes and he was done.  Zuko was checking his pocket watch and tapping his foot anyway, and Katara snuck a swat at his back when it was their turn to address the people.

“Greetings, everyone,” Zuko’s voice boomed over the microphone.  “My wife and I are happy you all came out tonight.”

The audience cheered and chanted their names.

“For years, this day has been all Katara and I have ever dreamed of,” Zuko went on.  “I’m sure there’s a family somewhere in our future, but right now, our lives have revolved around this project, like the planets revolve around the sun.  It has taken more days of struggle, hard work, and near failure for us to get this far, but I am proud to announce that on this day, my wife and I, along with our fellows in the scientific community, will be taking man’s first steps into entering the greater universe.  Tonight, we will be taking a trip to the moon.”

The crowd erupted, roaring its approval as Zuko nodded to the engineers, and the Cobalt Blue was loaded into the barrel of the cannon.  It paused with the tip still visible.  A door slid open, just wide enough for a single file line of passengers.  Zuko offered Katara an arm, and the couple ascended the staircase with their crack team close behind.  A few stopped to wave at the crowd, or at a loved one seeing them off.  One man withdrew a bouquet of long stem flowers hidden in his suit jacket, and tossed them into the crowd.  People leaped for them, catching onto the petals so that a shower of blues and purple rained down. 

It was the last thing Katara saw before she entered the pitch black rocket ship, but it was an image she would carry in her heart for the rest of her life.

She settled into her red plush seat, bolted down to the iron floors of the ship.  Reaching out blindly, she found Zuko’s hand and placed hers on top.  He ran his thumb across her knuckles, and she returned the smile she knew he was giving.

Their man on the outside was explaining to the crowd how they would send the Cobalt Blue into space.  Katara mouthed along with him.  The ship would be lowered into the cannon, the cannon would be lit, and they’d fly through the air into orbit and land safely on the head of the man in the moon.  He showed them the torch specially designed for the expedition.  It was lit on his signal by the team of firebenders hired for the show.  The crowd went wild for them, just as Zuko knew they would.  Katara would owe him one for that later.  She hadn’t thought it would work.

The floor shook under their feet, growing stronger as the fuse grew shorter.  Katara gripped Zuko’s hand, lacing her fingers through his, and if she could see well enough to find his lips, she would kiss them.  This was their moment, after all.  The moment of truth.

The ship blasted off.  Katara was thrown back into her seat, the pressure on her body made her feel like she weighed a thousand tons.  Air was a distant memory, and Katara fought to remember the procedure she and Zuko had practiced for this.  The roar of the engines was close to deafening, and Katara, for all the skittish enthusiasm that rolls off of her in waves, wished that she’d thought to pack some earmuffs.

They punched a hole in the sky, flying so high that the universe opened up for them, like the pages of a book.  A tiny window high above them was their only way of seeing out, but the stars were bright and the moon was nearing.  Gradually, the cabin lost pressure.  They had left earth’s atmosphere behind.  The sky was the limit now.

“Looks like we’ll be landing on the moon in just a couple of minutes,” said one of their teammates who sat behind the controls.

The light from the moon shined in their faces, and now Katara could look at her husband proper as she rested her head on his shoulder.

“Are you ready for this?” he asked.

Katara closed her eyes.

“I’ve been ready for years.”

Their landing was a little… rougher than expected.  The face of the moon showed astonishment at the Cobalt Blue’s steady approach.  Perhaps it had thought they would fly right by, just a swift pit stop on a much longer journey.  It certainly hadn’t expected them to land the ship in its eye, and Katara hoped it wouldn’t be too mad at them for it.  It really was an accident.

She made sure to apologize several times over as they disembarked.  The lack of ears cast doubt on its ability to hear, but Katara would’ve felt wrong not to try anyway.  That was just how she’d been brought up.  She shouted it at the top of her lungs, much to the discomfort of the rest of the group, who were still walking off the effects of space travel and would have preferred a little quiet, thank you very much.

They stepped off on the cliffside they had landed on.  It jutted out of a massive, curved mountain range that was likely part of one of the many holes one could see in the moon from a telescope back on earth.  To be there now was a disorienting notion, to say the least, but it was the inside of the crater that gave Katara what she really craved for.

Silver statues and marble halls lined a glistening platform, separated into symmetrical squares.  A dome topped palace was erected in the center, with smaller buildings scattered about.  Lush greenery made up the outer layers, started from the towering trees behind the palace to the creeping vines that reached at the very top of the cliff.  One man tried to take a piece off for study, but the vine hissed like a cat and receded from his touch.

“It’s incredible,” Katara breathed.

She felt Zuko’s arms around her, and his chin on top of her head.  They rocked slowly back and forth together, the fruit of their labors stretched out before them like a treasure trove. 

A dainty cough let the explorers know they were no longer alone.  A beautiful woman with snow white hair and the traditional robes of a water tribe princess stood before them.  How she had gotten there without making a sound could not be explained, but for that she was a part of this land, and it a part of her.

“Hello there,” the mysterious woman said, her voice echoing in a wind they hadn’t noticed until now.  “I am Princess Yue of the moon.  Who might you all be?”

The team members looked to Zuko and Katara as their leaders, and the couple graciously stepped forward with a bow and a curtsy.

“Hello, your highness.  We’re visitors from earth,” said Katara.

“We’d like to have a look around if that’s alright with you,” said Zuko.  “We’ve come a long way.”

Princess Yue smiled.  “I know.  I saw your ship come in.  I’m very impressed that you were able to make such a difficult journey.”

“Believe me, it wasn’t easy,” Katara said under her breath.  No need to bore the princess with all the details of the planning and the building and the fighting for funding that had come before this. 

“Yes, well, I’m happy to hear that travel between earth and the moon has become possible,” said Princess Yue, as the warmth in her smile faded into something infinitely more sinister.  “Unfortunately, I can’t allow that knowledge to leave this place.”

She snapped her fingers, summoning forth a tribe of moon men.  They had skeletal bodies and demonic faces, grotesque like masks.  Their bulging eyes rolled around in their heads, and the spears they carried poked and prodded at the terrified scientists.  As they cowered, Zuko and Katara took battle stances.  Katara bent the water out of her pouch and froze it mid-air sending a rain of icy spikes at the creatures.  Those who didn’t dodge were impaled through the eyes, and if the face of the moon was capable of thought, it would be very happy right now that a rocket was all it had gotten.

Those who escaped Katara’s attack had Zuko to contend with.  He punched flame after flame at the Yuenite, whom he quickly discovered were very fragile creatures.  One hit, and they were done.  A group of ten rushed at him, and Zuko kicked a long string of flame that chopped them all in half at the waist and left behind strings of dust blowing in the wind.

As the last of the Yuenite forces fell, a second wave was on the horizon, this one a hundred times greater than the last.  At the head of the attack was Yue, her princess dress magically changed into dark moon battle armor.  She flung out an arm at the earthlings.

“Get them!” she cried.

The Yuenites roared as they charged.  The ground below Zuko and Katara’s feet shook worse than it had on the ship.  Their team mates had long since run back to the ship to hide, and even a blind man could see how outnumbered they were, and how terrible the odds were.  And yet, Zuko and Katara waited, hand in hand, ready for action. They shared a glance and a smile.

“Well, we’ve gotten out of worse than this,” said Katara.

Zuko nodded.  “Yes we have.”

The Yuenites swarmed them.  Zuko and Katara unleashed the fury of their elements, and the fight was on.

**

_“The end.”_

_The sitter got to her feet and brushed the dirt off her pants.  A cricket that had been resting on her kneecap leaped into the grass out of sight, and the sitter bade it farewell in the hope that those rumors about crickets were true.  She could use a little good luck these days._

_She doused the fire and fluffed the pillows, and when she came back for the children, she found them exactly as she left them: upright, eyes bugged out, mouths hanging open.  The sitter tried not to laugh as she put her hands on her waist and titled her head in a show of innocence._

_“Now, what’s got you too so upset?” she asked._

_There was steam coming from the tips of the boy’s fingers._

_“Are you kidding me?” he said.  “You have got to be kidding me!”_

_The sitter frowned.  “I don’t understand.”_

_“You do so understand!” the boy shouted, springing to his feet._

_“You can’t end a story like that!” said the girl as she held her turtleduck close to her face.  “It’s not nice.  How do we know Zuko and Katara got away from the Yuenites?”_

_“Looking at you guys, I’d say they probably did,” said the sitter._

_“That doesn’t make any difference,” the boy argued.  “And why was Princess Yue a bad guy anyway.  I thought Princess Yue was supposed to be nice.”_

_“Well, who said she_ was _a bad guy?” asked the sitter, who was having a bit too much fun messing with these little kids half her size.  “Maybe she was just protecting her people from strangers from another world who could’ve been hostile for all she knows.  In the end, it depends on how you interpret the characters.”_

_“What the heck does ‘interpret’ mean?”_

_The sitter flicked the boy on the nose, making his squeak with indignation.  “It means don’t use that kind of language, kid.  It also means that it’s past your bedtime.  Your parents will kill me if I keep you guys up any longer.”_

_She picked up the girl, who was by now too sleepy to fight with her.  The boy held on a bit longer, long enough to still be whining about the whole thing after he’d been tucked into his sleeping mat, and his babysitter had drifted off to sleep to sound of chirping crickets and the hoot of an owl._


	5. Unrequited

_“Stick ‘em up, partner!  You’re gonna tell me where you buried the loot.”_

_The little boy held a pointed stick to the stuffed toy’s head.  It’s stitched on frown and round button eyes gave the impression of fear, which worked well for the boy and his game.  He cared not for darkening sky outside his window, nor for his sister sobbing in the corner._

_“Give my doll back!” she shouted at him.  When he ignored her pleas, she ran at him and tried to push him away.  “Give her back!  You’re gonna hurt her!”_

_“She’s a criminal and I’m the sheriff,” the boy insisted._

_He picked up the toy and ran across the room.  The girl gave chase, but her stubby legs made it hard to keep up.  Buckets of tears streamed down her face while the boy berated the unresponsive doll._

_“Tell me where the loot is!” He smashed his fist into the doll’s face, making it squeak._

_“Noooooooo!”_

_The door burst open, the sitter rushing inside out of breath._

_“What is going on in here?”_

_“He’s hurting my doll!” cried the little girl as she ran to cling to her sitter’s ankles._

_“This doll is a criminal.  It robbed the city bank,” said the boy.  He held the doll by its leg and pointed at his toy box, which had a piece of paper with the word bank crudely misspelled on taped to it._

_The sitter sighed and got down to her knees, bringing herself level with the boy.  She wore a hard expression, the same kind his parents used when it was time to give their kids a stern lecture on sharing or eating right.  She waited for him to be properly intimidated, then her eyes widened and she gasped._

_“What is that behind you?!”_

_The boy whirled around, searching for a non-existent entity as the sitter took advantage of the distraction and snatched the doll out of his hands._

_“Hey!” he whined once he figured out the trick, but by then it was too late.  His sister had her toy back, and the sitter had picked them both up and carrying them them under her arms to the bedroom._

_“Alright guys, time for bed.  You don’t get any story tonight if you don’t do as I say.”_

_“You’re not my mom,” grumbled the boy._

_“No, but I have authority over you that your mom gave me.”_

_She dropped them onto their respective beds and pulled her chair from the corner.  Sitting down, she waited for the children to get settled to start._

_“I guess you’re into that cowboy thing now, huh?” she asked the boy._

_“We saw a film reel today,” the boy said, resting his head on his hands so he could stare at the ceiling.  “It was for babies, though.  I bet you saw the grown-up one, didn’t you?”_

_The sitter hesitated to answer.  It was true that she’d gone with her friends to the theater today, but the film reel he was talking about was labeled ‘adults only’ for a very good reason.  If she didn’t already know how determined these kids could be to get their way once they set their minds to it, she’d try and suggest a different kind of story.  Maybe they could go back to the motorbike thing.  She never got to finish that one._

_“Er… well…”_

_“You can make it about Zuko and Katara if you have to-“ the boy cast a glance at his eager sister, “just make sure you don’t leave any of the cool parts out, because one day, I’ll be old enough to see the film reel for myself, and if I find out you skipped something cool, I’ll have you arrested!”_

_The sitter narrowed her eyes.  She’d like to see him try it, grown up or no.  Still, she knew there was no way out of this now.  The best she could do was go straight to the one good part that wouldn’t get her in trouble with the parents, and hope this kid mellowed out once he got older._

_“Okay, so it all started on a hot afternoon in a tiny town to the west…”_

**

The sun was high in the sky, and a passing crow gave a mournful cry.  The town had but one main street, lined with smiths and saloons and even a small hotel, but all their doors and windows were sealed today.  No one dared leave their homes before nightfall.  The brave ones peaked out through the holes worn into the wood that blocked their windows.  Everyone else crouched down into corners, clutching children and comfort items to their chest, praying it would end soon.

Two men stood opposite each other, staring down wide-brimmed hat at their opponent.  Gloved hands were held over their weapons, holstered to their belts in thick leather.  Their spurs jingled as they each took one step closer in turn, first one, then the other.  When just ten or so feet separated them, they stopped.  The man on the left side stared grimly at the other, who grinned like he hadn’t a care in the world.  A piece of straw stuck out of his mouth as he chewed on the bottom end.  The man on the left, though much younger and smaller, felt like he could ring the man’s neck if he didn’t stop that soon.

“You knew this day was coming,” he said.

The other man spat out the straw, much to his opponent’s relief.

“Yeah, but I’ve been looking forward to it.”  He lifted his head, letting his eyes show beneath the hat.  Sweat poured down his face and soaked the top of his poncho.  The other man could relate.  His sheriff uniform was killing him today.  It might have been a better idea if they’d dressed a little lighter for the duel, but suggesting such a thing would get the sheriff labelled as yellow, and he couldn’t have that.  There was far too much riding on this duel.

“You know how this is going to go, right?”

The sheriff shook his head.  “It doesn’t have to be this way, Jet.”

Jet gave a laugh, then reared back and hocked a massive loogie right at the sheriff’s newly polished boot. 

“Yeah sure, you just want me to surrender so you can have her for yourself,” said the bandit.  “You want me locked up in a cell until I’ve turned to dust and bone, while you and my girl get to right off into the sunset and live happily ever after.”

The sheriff had nothing to say to that.  It wasn’t like Jet was wrong (aside from the part about Katara being _his_ girl.)

As the standoff commenced, the building closest to the danger was the saloon.  Inside, the bar owner, Sokka, was sitting in front of his window, peering out the gap he had made in the plywood nailed to the frame.  His blind piano player clawed at his back, demanding to know what was going on every two seconds and refusing to stop no matter how many times Sokka told her the fight hadn’t started yet.

“Can’t you feel vibrations?” he snapped at her at one point.  “You’ll probably know before I do when the shooting starts.”

“Forgive me for trying to let you have a role in this crazy story,” Toph replied with a flat look on her face.

“What does that even mean?” asked Sokka.

“It means ‘tell me what’s happening now, chop chop.’”

Sokka growled, and a potential secondary fight was only prevented by the timely arrival of one of their showgirls, in her tightly sewed bodice that always had men looking… away from her face when they spoke to her.

“Oh my!” Ty Lee shouted, bringing her hands to her cheeks in great shock.  “What in tarnation is going on here?  Looks like a right hootenanny ‘s about to go down in this here town.”

Sokka stared at Ty Lee, while Toph muffled her laughter in the lining of her collar.

“ _What_ are you talking about?”

A gunshot sent cracked through the air and sent them all diving for cover.  Outside, the sheriff had whipped out his pistol to defend from a bullet that never reached him.  There might have been a dead bird falling out of the sky somewhere, but it seemed Jet would not be playing around anymore after this.  His gun was trained right between the sheriff’s eyes now, and though it pained the sheriff to think about returning fire, circumstances were coming to force his hand. 

“Jet, this will not end well for you, and you know it!”

Jet chuckled.  “You think just because they _say_ you’re the best shot in this town, I’m going to walk away with my tail between my legs?  Dream on, Aang.  Katara is mine, and you’re dead!”

He fired again, and Aang countered with a shot to the left of Jet.  It hit a glass bottle left empty on a foot stool in front of the blacksmith.  The smithee had been out since yesterday, but Aang was sure he’d forgive him for the mess.  He just couldn’t think of a better way to demonstrate his prowess with a gun.  While cheers and whistles came from all directions, Jet stared wide eyed over his shoulder at the shattered remains of the bottle.  He slowly came around to face Aang, who brought the barrel of the gun to his mouth and blew.

“You understand yet?” he called out.  “You won’t win this.  Just leave town.  I’ll let you go quietly if you promise to leave Katara alone.”

“You still think you can trick me, huh?”

Jet fired three more shots at the sheriff’s feet to make him dance.  Aang yelped as he fell to the ground, the dust caking his behind and the bottom of his pants.  Jet’s spurs that jingled in the wind grew brilliant in the glow of the sunlight.  Closer and closer he came, the shade of his shadow allowing Aang to open his eyes without fear of the sun’s blinding rays.  When he did, it was the round barrel of a gun that sat in his vision instead.

“This is it, sheriff,” Jet said.

Aang let out a sigh, and with quick reflexes pressed his gun into Jet’s juglar.

“Yeah, this is it,” he said.

Jet narrowed his eyes.

Aang closed his.

Their fingers itched on the triggers.

Sokka stuck his entire head out the window, with white knuckles clutching the window frame.

“Anyone dead yet?” Toph asked.

“Sweet niblets, butter my biscuit and call me an auntie,” said Ty Lee.

Sokka started to stare at her until he remembered there was something suspenseful happening right now.

Hungry vultures were perched on the roof tops in wait of a body to chew on.

The gun in Aang’s hand shook.

Jet’s was perfectly steady.

At the exact same time, they pulled the triggers.

_‘click’_

_‘click’_

A hundred people exhaled at the exact same time.  About half of those same people immediately started shouting.  Jet was one of them.

“What the heck just happened?!” He fumbled with his gun, pulling the chamber open.  While he was busy with that, Aang got to his feet.

“Looks like you ran out of bullets too,” he said with a shrug and a boyish grin.  “I guess we can’t fight anymore.”

Steam came out of Jet’s ears as he grabbed Aang by the collar and held him aloft.

“What do you mean _we’re_ out of bullets?!  Even if I am, you only fired two rounds!”

Aang look away, a blushing appearing on his cheeks.  He twiddled with his fingers and coughed once or twice.

“Well, the thing is, I really do want to arrest you and keep you from marrying Katara, but I’m also a pacifist and I don’t like killing people.  So I kind of only put two bullets in my gun today, and-“

“ARE YOU TAKING THIS SERIOUSLY AT ALL?”

It seemed, by then, that Jet had forgotten all about honor among hombres or whatever it was.  He threw a punch that got Aang right in the jaw.  The kid went flying into a nearby horse feeder, but a quick application of airbending had him in the air and out of danger.  Jet grabbed a broadsword tied to his other side and sliced at Aang.  He caught the air where Aang had just been and cried out in frustration as he ran around the street, trying in vain to catch the speedy airbender. 

While the townspeople cheered their sheriff on, two figures in the distance stood by their horses, watching the spectacle through a pair of binoculars.  Lowering them, the young woman in her bright blue dress glanced at her partner, a tall young man in a smithee’s apron who wore red underneath and played with a wedding band on his finger.

“You think we should tell them that we eloped yesterday?” Zuko asked his new wife.

Katara smiled as she raised the binoculars to look again.  Aang was on the roof of the saloon and Jet was trying to climb up.  Aang would have jumped to the stable by the time Jet was halfway there.

“Nah,” she said.  “Let those two deal work out their own issues.  It can wait until after the honeymoon.”

She and Zuko hoisted themselves up onto their horses and snapped the reins.  Together they rode off into the sunset to parts unknown, content to have the sun at their backs, the moon in their eyes, and the person they loved most in the world forever at their side.

**

_The little girl’s tinkling laughter filled the room.  She rolled over on her side over the doll she had fought so hard to protect, and laughed until she could laugh no longer._

_“Wow, those guys were really dumb!”_

_The sitter smiled and tried not to think too much about how the real duel had ended, and what a good meal those vultures must have had after the film stopped and the lights turned on.  She looked at the boy to gauge his reaction.  He wasn’t quite as amuse as his sister was, but he at least seemed to have felt something about the story._

_“What I don’t get is why Jet thought he could take Aang in the first place,” he said though he seemed to be speaking more to himself than anyone else.  “Cause that’s just dumb.  Everyone knows Aang would beat him easy.”_

_“They do not,” shouted the girl, for no other reason than to be belligerent, the sitter supposed.  “How would you know anyway?  You never even met Aang!”_

_“Neither did you!”_

_“Nyeh!”_

_“Nyeee-eh.”_

_“Nyeeeeeeeeeeeeeh!”_

_“Alright, that’s it!”_

_The sitter faked a roar and grabbed the kids out of bed, tickling them into submission amid shrieking giggles.  The three of them collapsed onto the floor, completely exhausted, and would’ve fallen asleep were it not for the guard outside the door running in with his spear raised, thinking that someone in the room was being attacked._


	6. Socks

_The kids were quiet today.  Quieter than usual, and while the sitter couldn’t imagine why when they spent the entire day touring the city and visiting the city’s best parks and museums and in general working up a ton of childish energy,  they might even be too tired to hear a story._

_It was odd, how much she’d come to look forward to their nightly sessions, when just three days ago, she was all but dreading them.  The only reason she could think of was the children themselves. They weren’t like other people.  They didn’t expect anything of her that she might not be in a position to give.  Her family, her teachers, even her friends could be like that, whether they meant to be or not.  With these kids, all she had to do was play dolls, show them a neat little bending trick, and tell them a story before bed each night.  That was all they wanted, a friend and a playmate, and if she gave them that, they were satisfied.  There was something cleansing about that, though what it was, she couldn’t say._

_It was a lot of existentialism to process when one was carrying a pile of stuffed animals back to the play pen where they belonged.   She collected the girl’s art projects for the day to be hung on the walls tomorrow, and dropped the boy’s model swords into toy box.  Silence reigned as she worked, making her think she really would be going back to her room early tonight.  She found both children with their eyes open and staring when she got back, and breathed a sigh of relief._

_“Let me guess, I pick the story tonight.”_

_The girl rubbed her eyes and nodded, and the boy just sat himself up and rested his head on his drawn up knees, watching her closely._

_Flopping down on her seat, the sitter thought about what tonight’s story would be about.  She thought she might try making up something on her own this time, though it wasn’t bound to be as exciting as a trip to the moon or a duel to the death.  It would be nice, though, to have something that came from her, and only her._

_“Okay… this is a story about Zuko and Katara, and...” a small smile tugged at her lips.  “And they’re just two crazy kids in love.”_

**

Katara fished around under her bed.  The floor was ice cold beneath her hands and naked arms, but she worked through the pain until it ebbed away into nothing.  She swept her arm around, unearthing old leggings and a shoe that might have fit her when she was ten, but nothing that resembled what she was looking for.

Movement outside her door reminded her that she was not home alone today.  She should’ve been in the kitchen hours ago getting her study partner a drink, or showing him around the house, or actually studying like they were supposed to be doing.  It was just her luck this would happen the day before a big test.  Sometimes, she wondered why she was even still in school in the first place.  She and Sokka could learn everything they needed from Gran-Gran, and everything else they would get from experience.  Why did anyone need to sit in a room wasting hours of the day memorizing useless information when-

“Katara?”

Katara’s head slammed on the bedframe, causing a moment of blindness, followed by a whirlwind of stars in her eyes.  It was pure agony trying to crawl on her stomach out of there with Zuko watching her.  It hardly mattered if he saw anymore.  She had already embarrassed herself enough, hadn’t she?

“Katara?”

He sounded much closer now.  It worsened the pain deep inside for Katara to realize that he was crouching down, and that those warm hands on her arms were him helping her up and giving her his shoulder to lean on while the pain subsided.  When that took too long, he led her to the small table and helped her sit. 

“What were you doing under there?” he asked.

Katara wished he wouldn’t.  It was bad enough that he’d found her like that and that she’d proceeded to make a complete fool of herself when he did.  Having to tell him the reason for it all would be nothing but a one-way ticket for her foot to her mouth.  Some might say she was overreacting, but those people had clearly never embarrassed themselves in front of a friend they just so happened to have a huge crush on. 

She mumbled a response that came out like single word in an alien language.  Zuko blinked.

“What was that?”

Katara looked away.  He was way too adorable when he was confused.  It wasn’t fair!

“I said I was looking for something.”  Her lips were still barely moving, but her words were intelligible now, and Zuko nodded.

“What were you looking for?”

Katara stared hard at the floor and kept her mouth tightly closed.

“Katara?”

A long pause followed.

“Katara?”

He just wouldn’t stop until he broke her, would he?

“Is something wrong, Katara?”

“…lookinfermsoc…”

“I’m sorry?”

Katara met his eyes once more, and he still had that look on his face that always got to her.  She sighed.

“I was looking for my sock.”

There was a clock on the corner wall ticking the hours away, and it beat in Katara’s ears as Zuko gave no reply, either joking or serious.  The seconds snailed by.  What she had thought would be a cringe-worthy experience turned out less so than Katara had thought.  The longer they went without speaking, the more she came to think she really had been overthinking it.  It wasn’t that big of a deal, right?  It was just a missing sock.

The Zuko laughed.

_‘Oh who am I kidding?  I really messed up.’_

Zuko got up, moving around the tiny table to the bed, where he crouched down.

_‘Oh no, he wouldn’t…’_

“What color sock is it?” he asked.

_‘He is.’_

“You don’t have to do that, Zuko.”  She started to stand, but then the back of her skull was still throbbing, forcing her back down. 

“I don’t mind,” he answered, getting to his hands and knees and checking under the bed.  “So what was the color again?”

Katara jolted upon realizing she hadn’t answered his question.

“Uh… it’s blue… all my socks are blue.”

“I think all your everything is blue, Katara.”

Katara glanced down at her blue jeans and periwinkle blouse, and knew she couldn’t argue that point.

“You _really_ don’t have to, though,” she said again.

He ignored that comment and went on with the search.  Under her bed was nothing but dust bunnies, so he first felt under the mattress and then checked under the rug.  Katara started many times to dissuade him, but the words would never come out.  It might have been because his persistence was as sweet and appealing as the rest of him was, or it might have been because his search had him bending over to look inside nooks and crannies a lot.

When he finally stood tall with a loud ‘a-ha,’ holding her single sock like it was some great prize, Katara couldn’t help but giggle.

“I told you I’d find it,” Zuko said, handing the garment off to her. 

Katara held it tight in her hand, forgetting that it wasn’t the right color to be the one she was looking for, and embraced Zuko.

“Thanks for your help,” she said, and she got up on her toes to kiss him on the cheek.

**

_‘The end.’_

_The sitter sat back, actually pretty proud of herself.  It wasn’t the greatest story ever told, not by a longshot, but it was short and sweet and to the point, and the kissing had been regulated to just the cheek, so the kids couldn’t object too much._

_She flicked her eyes to the boy, whose expectant gaze was slowly morphing into one of disbelief._

_“Wait… that’s it?  That’s the story?”_

_The sitter sat up straighter._

_“Do you have a problem?”_

_The boy looked about ready to set her head on fire._

_“Do I have a problem?” he repeated.  “How about the fact that that was barely even a story?  Socks?  You made up a story about_ socks? _Might as well have had Zuko and Katara watching paint dry or pulling up weeds.  Why socks?”_

_“It was the first thing I could think of!” the sitter said defensively.  “I’d like to see you come up with a better story.”_

_“A spidermonkey could come up with a better story!”_

_“I liked it,” the sister piped in.  “I thought it was sweet.”_

_“You would,” said the brother, crossing his arms over his chest._

_The sitter found herself following suit, but once she realized this, she dropped them and stood up._

_“If it bothers you so much, I can try and make up another one.”_

_“I never said I didn’t appreciate your effort,” said the boy.  “I thought you could have tried harder, but it was nice of you to try at all instead of just copying another story and changing all the names like you’ve been doing.  That’s palgerism you know.”_

_The sitter snorted.  “I think you mean plagiarism, kid.”_

_“Whatever.”_

_He lay back down and allowed the sitter to pull the covers over him properly.  Though he had no toy to hold, he wrapped his arms around a small pillow and turned on his side, eyes closed even though it was obvious that he was nowhere near sleeping._

_“There’s a storybook on the bookshelf.  It’s the big red one on the bottom shelf.  Take it with you and study it.  That’s an order.”_

_This kid had been hanging around his parent’s banquets too much.  His vocabulary may have been improving, but his attitude was going down the toilet.  The sitter made a note to talk to his parents about that as she rubbed the top of his head and got the corners of his mouth to twitch ever so slightly.  She smirked._

_“Whatever you say, your highness.”_


	7. Slow Dancing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another week has been and gone. I hope everyone had a good time this week. See you next year!

_The lights were already off when she walked into the nursery.  She thought for a moment that they’d fallen asleep without her, but then a dark shadow shifted on the little girl’s bed, and a whimper like a hurt animal rang out through the quiet._

_“You guys still up?”_

_She lit a low flame, just enough to see inside without rousing them if they really weren’t awake.  What she found was the two children sitting on the girl’s bed, their heads down.  The girl wiped tears from her eyes, but the boy was too proud to admit they were there.  His face was damp and would remain so.  In an instant, the girl was off the bed and running.  She wrapped her chubby arms around the sitter’s legs with surprising strength, nearly knocking the young woman over._

_“Hey, what’s this about?” the sitter asked._

_“I don’t want you to go.”_

_The little girl spoke so softly into the fabric of the sitter’s pants, that she almost couldn’t be heard.  The sitter maneuvered one of her legs out of the girl’s grasp, careful not to accidentally kick her in the face, and kneeled to take her in her arms._

_“Come on, it’s gonna be okay,” said the sitter.  “Your regular sitter is going to be back from her vacation tomorrow.  Aren’t you excited to see her again?”_

_“I guess so,” said the little girl._

_Footsteps shuffled in the shadows before them, the little boy’s outline appearing faintly in the candlelight._

_“She doesn’t tell stories as good as you do,” said the boy._

_The sitter smirked.  “I thought you didn’t like my stories.”_

_“Yeah, but you should hear how she tells them.  At least you try to change your voice when someone is talking.”_

_The sitter helped the two of them into bed.  The girl struggled to push herself up through her tears, and the shaking of her shoulders impeded her efforts, until the sitter came and lifted her up by her waist.  She took extra special care in tucking them in this time._

_“How about I tell you guys a different kind of story tonight?”_

_“Is Zuko going to help Katara find her shoes?”_

_The sitter glared at the boy, but he just looked away unaffected._

_“Actually, this is a true story.”_

_The little girl gasped, and even the boy turned himself on his back so he could listen properly, though he continued to pout regardless._

_“Now, keep in mind that I only know this story because it was told to me.  I might have a few things wrong.”_

_The little girl shook her head.  “That’s okay.  Just do your best.”_

_“And make it good,” said the little boy._

_“And no kissing.”_

_“Right, no kissing.”_

_The sitter gave a sigh and took her seat._

_“Okay, I’ll try to skip over the kissing parts.”  She paused to clear her throat.  “So, once upon a time, Fire Lord Zuko threw a big party in the Fire Nation, and all the most important people in the world were there, including some of his old friends.”_

**

Zuko was the only one at the party not dancing.  He wished he could say it was an exaggeration, but the dance floor was full to bursting, and he was getting full reign over the refreshment table, which was usually too pack to even sneak a biscuit off of.  He swallowed a bite of his beef bowl and set the rest down for later, feeling less and less hungry with each passing second.

He went to take his place at the head of the largest table, where an ornate ‘portable’ throne had been set up by a dozen hardworking servants, whom he would probably have to give a bonus for indulging in the whims of the council on his behalf.  Why they had wanted to throw a party this weekend of all times, he didn’t know.  Nothing was being celebrated as far as he was aware.  The anniversary of the end of the hundred year war wasn’t for five months, and nobody he knew of had a birthday coming up.  He thought he heard news of a minor noblemen’s wedding anniversary being around now, but if that was what this was all about, it seemed like far too big a fuss over a man whose name he didn’t even know.

A young woman in deep red with her hair put into ringlets wandered over to timidly ask for a dance.  She was the seventh girl so far to ask, and she was the seventh girl to be turned down.  The truth was that Zuko didn’t feel like dancing tonight.  He didn’t even feel like staying.  Were he not the Fire Lord, he would’ve stolen away hours ago like he used to do as a boy, when Mother would drag him to boring parties and events with her.  He could be out by the turtle duck pond right now, feeding them from his hand and then maybe practicing his stances for a while.  Nowadays, he could hardly take a step without someone pulling him away to deal with some new problem that was arising (most of the time they resolved themselves without any intervention from him). 

Alone again, Zuko played with his folded up napkin.  The music had shifted from fast and heavy to slow and serene.  Half the guests dispersed from the center of the ballroom, going to rest themselves and partake in some food.  Within ten minutes, the servants were scrambling to replace empty trays that had been towered high with food moments ago.  Zuko finished the last bite of his beef bowl.  A server had it from him with expert timing.  Zuko politely refused her offer of a refill, asking only for a drink, which was brought to him seconds later by a different person. 

“You sure do command respect around here, don’t you?”

Zuko froze in place.  He knew that voice.  He knew it very well indeed. 

Turning around, he first caught a hint of Katara’s dress and the way it hugged a body that was clearly no longer childish in any way.  His throat closed up as blood flowed to places he wished it wouldn’t flow to.  He pulled his chair closer to the table, just in case.

“Hey Katara,” he said.  “Are you enjoying the party?”

She shrugged and sat down beside him.

“I guess I’m having fun.”  She slouched over the table with an elbow propping her head up.  If Zuko’s old manners tutor were alive to see it, she would’ve had a heart attack.  “I’ve never been a big fan of parties, though.”

“Yeah, join the club,” said Zuko.  “When it starts to die down a little, I might be able to make up some excuse to leave early.  You want to come?”

“Only if you get them to put more of those riceballs out first,” said Katara with a sly smile.  “Those are delicious.”

“I’m more partial to the spiced fish myself.”

The many torches lining the room went dim on command, as the band started in on a tune even slower than the last.  It was pretty in a sad kind of way, haunting was a good word for it.  Zuko wasn’t very poetic or musically inclined, but it made him feel something.  Katara’s presence might have helped. 

A dozen couples remained on the floor, swaying so gracefully, like their feet weren’t even moving.

“Oh, I love this song,” said Katara.

Zuko’s body started to tingle with the need to stand, and his mind formed words that came out of his mouth before his better judgment could think them through

“Do you want to dance?”

He might have taken it back right away, and was indeed getting ready to amend that she didn’t have to if she didn’t want to.  But then her face broke out in a grin, and something deep within Zuko’s conscious mind made a dramatic change.  He liked the way she looked right now, sparkling with joy and happiness.  He wouldn’t mind seeing her like that every day.

He led her onto the dance floor, his childhood lessons flashing through his mind like a slide show.  He placed his hand on Katara’s back, not too high or too low.  He distinctly recalled the stinging of a wooden ruler on his hands when he did the latter by mistake many years ago.  He counted off the steps in his mind: one step this way, one step that, one step forward, one step back.  Katara followed like an expert, but that didn’t surprise Zuko.  She was a fast learner, and this particular dance was not dissimilar from the motion of a master waterbender like her. 

“How have you been lately?” he asked in the middle of the song.

“I’m good,” she answered, glancing away for a brief moment.  “I’m sorry about you and Mai.”

Zuko shook his head.  “It’s been months.  I’ve moved past it.”

He couldn’t tell if she believed him or not, but he hoped she did.  What was strange was that it really was true for the first time.  He hadn’t thought about Mai once in the last couple of days since Katara arrived with Sokka and Suki for a visit.  It was easier to get over her since she’d gone traveling with Ty Lee and wasn’t around to avert her eyes from his in the street anymore.

“What about you and Aang?” he asked.

When Katara looked away this time, it was for much longer, and her hand in his tightened just a little.

“We… we decided not to try and make it work anymore,” she answered, a sigh in her voice.  “In the end, we just didn’t have enough in common to last as a couple.  We never really talked about things, it just… it was doomed from the start, I guess.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

They retreated to the balcony at the end of the dance.  The band had kicked things up again, but neither of them was in the mood for that.  So they left the jumping and the spins and the laughter to those who really wanted to be there.  The sun had long since set and the moon was brilliant, hanging full in the sky like a big white gem.  Katara inhaled deeply the chilly air.

“I love this place at night,” she said.

Zuko looked out over the darkened homes and shops littering the square.  It didn’t look like anything special to him.

“I didn’t think you would,” he said quietly.  “This place… it must carry a lot of bad memories.”

 _‘It does for me,’_ he wouldn’t say.  From the sympathetic frown she now wore, he could tell she knew it already.

“Maybe sometimes,” Katara admitted, turning her eyes on Zuko.  She had beautiful eyes, he thought to himself.  It was a wonder he had never noticed before.  “But I think, now that the war is over and we’re making real progress towards peace, there can be a lot of good memories to be made that’ll overshadow the bad.”

She was standing very close to him.  Had she always been this close? 

Whether she had or she hadn’t, Zuko closed the distance.  He wanted to be close enough to feel, if not her body, than air around it.  She smelled of lilies and mist.  She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his life.

“I think so too,” Zuko said, and he really, really meant it.  “If I have someone to make them with.”

If that was bold of him, brushing his fingers over hers was downright death-defying.  He tried to still his racing heart before it ripped free of his chest, but then Katara laced her thumb around his pinky, and fireworks went off inside his stomach. 

The world had whittled down to just this balcony, just the two of them together, not a Fire Lord or a master Waterbender.  For one precious moment- the first of many to come- they were just Zuko and Katara, and all they had to do was be.

**

_“And then there was kissing,” the sitter said with feigned boredom.  “And then Zuko and Katara got married and had a bunch of kids, and one of those kids had two kids of her own, and those kids really need to get some sleep right now, so I think I’ll save you all the details about the kissing, which I can only assume happened a lot over the years.  I know you guys don’t want to hear about that.”_

_“You got that right,” said the little boy, while his sister nodded in agreement and made a face like she smelled something foul._

_“No kissing ever!” she said._

_The sitter could’ve burst out laughing right there.  These two were just too adorable sometimes._

_“You know, one day you guys might not mind kissing so much,” said the sitter._

_The boy scoffed.  “Yeah right, that’ll never happen.”_

_He still said nothing when the sitter pressed her lips against his forehead.  When she went to do the same to the girl, she was ambushed with a hug around her neck, the girl hanging off of her like a necklace._

_“Will you still be here when we get up?” she asked in her wavering little voice._

_The sitter smiled warmly and hugged her back._

_“Yeah, I’ll be here.  The ship to Republic City doesn’t leave until afternoon.”_

_“And you’ll come back someday, right?”_

_“Are you kidding?  How could I leave you alone for long?  We waterbenders have to stick together, don’t we?”_

_“Yeah!” said the little girl, and if she’d had some water on her now, she might’ve tried to send some the sitter’s way, just to watch her bend it in funny shapes before sending it out the window._

_“What about us firebenders?” asked the boy._

_The sitter turned to him and took the flame he summoned in his hand, bouncing it around a little for show, and then throwing it in the air to dissipate._

_“Yeah, us firebenders too.”_

_She had to initiate the hug this time.  He was more receptive to it, and he squeezed her far tighter than his sister could’ve hoped to.  Maybe one day, he’d be able to hug her on his own, once he grew out of this ‘macho tough guy’ phase of his._

_“I love you guys,” said the sitter._

_“We love you too, Korra.”_

_She left the room when the kids were both sleeping, or pretending well enough that she was fooled into leaving.  She passed the private sitting room, where no one but the royal family and their honored guests were allowed to enter.  The fireplace provided a warm, golden glow for the elderly man and woman who sat in front of it, watching her return to her room.  The woman rested her hands in her lap and her head on the shoulder of her husband.  His long hair tickled her cheek.  He would never get it cut no matter what she said, or how long and grey it became._

_“So what story do you think she told them tonight?” her husband asked._

_The woman hummed and closed her eyes.  The firelight felt so good tonight._

_“I don’t know,” she answered, as he reached for her hand like he had that fateful night so many years ago.  “Maybe she told them ours.”_


End file.
